


The Price of Happiness

by Fireskin, Ghian_Nari



Category: Elder Scrolls Online
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Healing, bandits, merchants, trade
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-03 12:15:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15818691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fireskin/pseuds/Fireskin, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghian_Nari/pseuds/Ghian_Nari
Summary: When a grieving Nord shopkeeper turned bandit meets a grieving Wood Elf heroine with a gentle heart, things take an unexpected turn to larceny, adventure and shopping.(Game Spoilers for Summerset and Base Game as a heads up)





	The Price of Happiness

A deep growl was all it took to dissuade the thief whose hand inched towards an unwary pocket. Well, a growl from a towering mass of well armed muscle that happened to catch sight of the larceny in progress, anyway.

As the ne’er-do-well slank back into the faceless masses that thronged the marketplace, others grimaced as they moved out of the way of the grim faced giant that stalked through their midst. Perhaps it was his height that frightened them. Or perhaps it was the story of the death bringer tattoos that graced his face and body these days. Or, most likely, the hints of tragedy that blew before him in whispers and averted faces.

It nearly made Hobb smile… which would have destroyed the carefully crafted mystique he’d been cultivating here. He was certain that they had decided that his careful glances and piercing stares were set to find his next prey. To destroy the ones that had destroyed him all those years ago. To search for any hint of insult or disrespect. Hobb the Lost, they called him sometimes. Or Hobb the vengeful. Or, in the darkest of nights, Hobb the Deathbringer.

But he knew who he really was. Hobb the Shopkeep.

The bandits who had saved his life when the daedra had taken everything dear to him had called him this name and it was as true as anything else in his changeable life. Even now, the habits of a lifetime of merchanting had been impossible to break (and, if they were honest about it, very useful to the bandit group). The piercing stares and careful glances were actually caused by his detailed (former) shopkeepers evaluation of the value and quality of the goods set on display around him.

His long stride paused a moment so he could surreptitiously take in the glorious sheen on a truly fine bit of Dres silk. Out here in the wilds of Summerset he hadn’t expected to find something of such quality. Of course, it WAS Summerset after all. Perhaps he shouldn’t be surprised...but...

Should he ask?

Would that destroy the mystique that kept others from challenging him?

Even though he’d learned well from those bandits that had become his new family, he still hated fighting. He didn’t shy away from it any more and had done his fair share of bloodletting this last decade. But… where others celebrated their conquests and bragged of their bloody deeds… he just couldn’t bring himself to join in. Each life could mean someone else grieving as he had grieved for Marta. A silent prayer went up to Kyne with each dying breath he brought about.

“Grant them peace and mercy, great lady. And forgive me for this necessity.”

He moved to pass the tempting silk, and found his steps bringing him right back to it’s siren call. Ah well. Clearly it was meant to be. Hopefully he was scary enough that he could get away with this one bit of indiscretion.

He attempted a grim smile. “How much for the Dres silk...the turqoise one?” The shopkeepers eyes widened in fear… or perhaps avarice… that one of the Deathbringer bandits should ask about his wares. But before he could answer, a commotion drew both their attention away from the impending barter session.

“Did you just try to rob me?!”

The young voice sounded more surprised than fearful. As he turned, he saw why. A wood elf maiden stood, hand clenched firmly around the wrist of the same struggling thief Hobb had growled at earlier. She likely didn’t need his help, but the habits of his former life had proven difficult to forsake in the chivalry arena as well. He ambled over to the non-frightened woman and the struggling rogue.

“Oh my friend, Wood Elves are a dangerous folk for all their lack of height. I think you are in a bit of trouble here. Perhaps you will be her dinner.” His big voice drowned out her next question as two pairs of surprised eyes flew up to his face.

With an approving nod, he noted that the young ladies eyes didn’t stay surprised for more than a moment. It was his turn to be surprised, however, as she turned back to the thief with a harrumph.

“If you are that desperate, you should have it. Here, you keep my coin purse and get something to eat.”

__

Ghian smiled at the thief whose mouth was literally stuttering in silence. Had her heart not been heavy with grief, she might have laughed as the thief backed away, bowing thanks over and over, slipping into the crowd.

She turned to the man who'd stepped in to help, smiling up at him and said, " Thank you, sir. It would have been a sad meal indeed if I'd had to kill him. He was mostly bone." Then she laughed at the look on his face and turned to walk away. She did, however, turn back again to look at him. There was something about him. Something beside the fact he was very handsome. She hoped whatever darkness haunted his eyes didn't last long. She certainly didn't understand why that thought made her sad. She guessed things these days were mostly sad to her.

With the opening of the Summerset Isles by Queen Ayren, her path to sadness had been set. Set by her own curiosities and her tiring of the Valenwood, her home. Ghian craved more, wanted to see more. She never expected what came though.

The moment she stepped into Shimmerene, a whirlwind of danger, intrigue and love even, caught her up, blowing her about like the storm it was. Nocturnal was going to pay. That bitch would be at the end of her bow and die as horribly as her beloved Ritemaster had died.

Shaking now with anger and grief, Ghian looked about for a quiet, isolated place. The tears were coming with a vengeance. She just wanted to go home; back to Bangkori. Seeksz had sent word she'd found the ever blooming flowers they'd been looking for. Those flowers would sit in the chair Iachesis favored. The place they'd perched for hours just talking and enjoying each others company. The place he'd taught her so much. The place they'd begun to plan a future in. Then, she thought of the man she'd met earlier with the haunting eyes. She knew there was sadness in those dark, handsome orbs and it gutted her as much as her own pain, so she cried for them both.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Playing ESO I created this character Hobb, the Shopkeep. A dangerous looking Nord with a penchant for trade rather than warfare. At the same time Ghian_Navi created a wonderful tender hearted Wood Elf with a sorrowful heart. 
> 
> Of course, there HAD to be a story.


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